Heroes of the Republic
by TheOrangeRobo
Summary: When a war between the Republic and the Sith Empire looms on the horizon, four individuals come forth to defend the Republic to the bitter end. Now tell me, what do two Jedi, a Republic Trooper, and a smuggler have in common?
1. Chapter 1: Realization

**Heroes of the Republic**

Chapter 1: Realization

_**It is a dark era for the Jedi Order.**_

_**The Sith Empire obliterated the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and slaughtered many of the Republic's brave defenders during the last war.**_

_**The surviving Jedi have withdrawn to their ancient homeworld of Tython, where they take advantage of a fragile peace to train a new generation of guardians for the galaxy.**_

_**Now a new hope emerges.**_

_**A young Padawan strong in the Force journeys to Tython's dangerous wilderness to complete the final Jedi trials and become a Knight of the Republic.**_

* * *

A Padawan sat in the back of a shuttle, the lone passenger on a course set for Tython. He's a human, with light skin, dark brown hair, and amber eyes. The Padawan's training was nearly completed. All he needed was to complete his final trials, and he'd finally serve as a Knight of the Republic. The last decade-or-so of training was supposed to prepare him for this moment, yet the Padawan still felt anxious. What if he messed up, or he exhibited signs of the Dark Side? Then, as if it were fated, he remembered something his old Master told him.

"Remember Drio, there is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. Remember that when you begin to doubt yourself." Kizim was an unusual fellow, especially compared to others of his kind. Master Kizim was a Miraluka. Whereas Miraluka were usually calm and soft-spoken, Kizim was bombastic and overflowing with knowledge. That wasn't to say he was a bad teacher. In fact, Drio knew that if he didn't have Kizim as a master, he would never have made it to this point. But even a great teacher knows when he has nothing more to teach. And when Kizim had nothing left to teach Drio, the master gave the green light to send Drio to Tython to undergo his final trials. Though the time they'd spent together was immeasurable, both knew it was time for Drio to move on.

"Drio," Kizim spoke just as Drio went to board the shuttle. The Padawan turned to see the master's solemn expression, one different from his usual cheery demeanor. The two stood in silence for a moment before the Jedi Master put a hand on Drio's shoulder and smiled. "You've come far from the uncertain boy I met fifteen years ago. I know that the Force has great plans for you."

"How do you know that, Master," Drio asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I feel it. I just know that whatever challenges you may face on your path to becoming a Knight, the Force will guide you to your destiny." Kizim's hand slightly withdrew, almost hesitant to let his Padawan go. "Remember Drio, there is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. Remember that when you begin to doubt yourself." With that, Kizim stepped back and nodded at the pilot, who entered the shuttle before Drio did. As Drio got on, he turned and gave his now _former_ master one final look of appreciation, taking in the sight of the man who practically raised him. He settled himself in the back of the shuttle and began undergoing a series of deep meditations.

_Thank you, Master Kizim, _Drio thought. _With your teachings, I'll become a Jedi you can be proud of. _

Little did our young Padawan know, not only would he become a Jedi his former master could be proud of, he'd become one of the greatest Jedi in the history of the Order. This is the story of how two Jedi, a Republic Trooper, and a smuggler saved the Republic.

* * *

"Hey, kid," the pilot spoke, stirring Drio from his meditations. "We're about to land at the Masters' Retreat. I suggest you get your things ready, 'cause I'm not coming back here if you forget something."

"No need," Drio replied. "I'm all ready to go." Drio didn't bring much with him, not that he had that much to begin with. The only things he'd brought with him were the Padawan clothes he currently wore and the two training sabers he'd been given when he first learned to fight. He easily picked up the basic forms and techniques of fighting with one saber, so his masters decided to push the boy to use two sabers. The process of learning two sabers was a little tougher, and it definitely caused a few self-inflicted headaches, but Drio was fighting with two sabers in no time. His prowess easily dwarfed those of his fellow Padawans, and he even gave some of his masters a run for their money.

Drio heard the landing gear engage on the shuttle, and knew that in a few moments, the final steps of his training would commence. Drio's meditations had helped in clearing his mind of doubts, but it would be up to Drio to prove himself to the Jedi Masters. The shuttle door hissed as it opened up in front of Drio, light pouring in and slightly blinding the Padawan. Drio stepped down the ramp and onto the platform that made up the Masters' Retreat. He looked around and was awed by a beautiful forest surrounding the compound. He quickly noticed that a Jedi Knight stood nearby with his arms crossed behind him, clearly waiting for Drio's arrival. Drio moved toward the Jedi with confidence evident in his step.

"Welcome to Tython, Padawan," the Knight greeted. "My name is Knight Weller. Everyone at the temple is looking forward to meeting you." Drio gave Weller a nod. "Your former Masters praise your combat skills. They say you're becoming an expert duelist."

"It's easy to excel when you're trained by the best," Drio replied. The Knight motioned for Drio to follow him, and so the Padawan did. As they walked, Drio took in the sight of other Jedi nearby, adorned in their dark brown robes.

"The Jedi Council will assign you a new Master for your final trials. You'll be tested in ways you can't imagine," Weller warned. "But when you leave Tython, you'll know what it means to be a Jedi Knight. More importantly, you'll know yourself." They entered a small room with a large computer inside.

"Being a Jedi Knight is my calling," Drio responded. "What else can a Master tell me?" Knight Weller slightly chuckled at the response.

"Many Padawans feel the same way until they face the trials. That's why releasing preconceived notions is part of the Jedi Code," Knight Weller explained. "'There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.' Enter your training with an open mind. You might surprise yourself." Weller motioned toward the door. "There's a speeder here that will take you–" A loud beeping interrupted their conversation, surprising both of them. Weller's eyes flashed with recognition. "Hang on, I'm getting an emergency signal…" He retrieved his holocommunicator and answered to find a Bith Padawan calling him.

"–under attack! Repeat, under attack," the Padawan yelled. "Flesh Raiders are invading the training grounds! They have blasters! Send help!" The Padawan recoiled as blaster fire came shooting past him, before the call cut out. Concern immediately washed over Knight Weller's face.

"Flesh Raiders? Armed with blasters? He must be mistaken."

"Mistaken or not, that Padawan is under attack," Drio responded.

"They've never come this close before," Weller added worriedly. "Flesh Raiders are a species of hostile natives. They're smart enough to use tools and violent beyond reason." The Knight whirled around and began pressing various buttons on the computer behind him. "I'm sending every able-bodied Jedi down to the Padawan training grounds right away–especially you." That last part surprised Drio.

_Especially me?_ he thought incredulously. He shook the surprise off quickly though. _No time for that._ "Just point the way, I'll handle the rest." If Weller wasn't looking at the computer, Drio would've seen a smile briefly flash onto Weller's face.

"Take the speeder outside to the training grounds," Knight Weller instructed. "Push back the Flesh Raiders–and find out if they're really using advanced weapons." Drio was about to ask what Weller was going to do, but it seemed as if Weller read Drio's mind. "Go. I'll catch up after I alert the Jedi Council. May the Force be with you."

With that, Drio was out the door in mere moments. As he ran, he shouted to the Jedi around him, "The training grounds are under attack!" He spotted the speeder Knight Weller told him about and sped off on it. _This is not how I imagined my first day going._ he thought grimly.

* * *

Chaos. That's the first word that came to Drio's mind when he arrived at the Padawan Training Grounds. Padawans were running and dodging blaster fire like their lives depended on it, only in this case it _did_. Many Jedi were locked in combat with the invading army of Flesh Raiders.

The Flesh Raiders. The instant he laid eyes on one of these beasts, he knew there'd be no reasoning with the enemy. These beings were pure evil. With a hefty sigh, Drio closed his eyes and withdrew the two training sabers. He steeled himself for what he knew was about to happen. He would have to kill. Suddenly, Drio's eyes shot open and he leapt into battle. He raced toward a lone Flesh Raider about to gun down a fleeing Padawan.

"Hey!" Drio shouted, diverting the Flesh Raider's attention toward him. The Flesh Raider grinned sadistically, as if eyeing down prey, before aiming the blaster pistol at Drio and firing multiple shots. Drio expertly blocked the blaster fire as he was taught to, closing in further. The Flesh Raider, realizing Drio was almost upon it, holstered its blaster and pulled out a saber of its own. It let out a guttural yell before charging Drio. When close enough, the Flesh Raider swung at Drio, expecting him to be like the other Padawans, only to be surprised when Drio blocked the saber with one of his own while swinging at him with another. The Flesh Raider was caught in the head by Drio's saber, sending it reeling, allowing Drio to follow up with a few more slashes to various parts of the Flesh Raider's body. It growled with each blow, getting more and more angry, before it roared and attempted to shoulder bash Drio. Drio was too quick for it, however, and evaded the bash by twisting his body around it. Now with the Flesh Raider's back exposed, Drio unleashed another flurry of slashes to the creature's back. It yowled in pain with every strike, before it dropped to its knees and hit the ground dead. Drio took a moment to gaze upon what he had just done. He let out a huge breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He felt it as the Force left the Flesh Raider's body, dissipating into the world around him. It took everything in his power to not fall to his knees because of what he just felt.

The furious roar of a nearby Flesh Raider snapped him out of his trance. He heard its large footsteps as it rushed to take him out. Drio closed his eyes, not paying any mind to the hulking beast that was bearing down on him.

_How can I keep doing this? _he wondered hopelessly. _How does anyone take a life? _Just then, he remembered the Padawan that the Flesh Raider had been about to take out. The fear in the girl's eyes as she ran away and hoped that a Flesh Raider wouldn't gun her down. That's when he realized why Jedi kill. They do it to protect the innocent, the people unable to fight for themselves. And with that realization, he felt the Force rush through him, filling him with a sense of determination. Drio opened his eyes whirled around just in time to block a fatal blow from the incoming Flesh Raider. He and the Flesh Raider clashed blades for a few moments before Drio used his newfound determination to push the Flesh Raider back. It grit its teeth as it struggled to keep its ground against Drio, but it ultimately fell when Drio dropped one of his sabers and Force Pushed the creature to the ground. Drio gave the creature no time to recover and slashed it across the chest, killing it instantly. He felt the Force leave the creature, only this time the sensation didn't cripple him. He acknowledged its presence, but did not let it bother him. He'd come to terms with what he had to do. He picked up his dropped training saber and glanced off into the distance at a group of Flesh Raiders taking aim at the Jedi Knights that prevented the beasts from taking over the landing platform. They wouldn't take that platform. And so, Drio rushed at the Flesh Raiders, continuing the defense against the Flesh Raider army.

* * *

**WOOOOO! I'M BACK! What's up guys, it's ya boi that never writes, TheOrangeRobo! Recently, I started playing "Star Wars: The Old Republic". Although I'm eight years late to the party, I'm really enjoying the experience so far, though some of the free-to-play restrictions are kinda annoying. However, I'm waiting until the new "Onslaught" comes out in September to subscribe so I can get every expansion up to that. Also, they're addingNautolans. I'M SO HAPPY! Kit Fisto has always been my favorite Jedi, so being able to play as his race is so awesome. Who knows? You may even see a Nautolan character down the line, though it won't be one of the four main characters of this story. Speaking of main characters, as you can see, this is the Jedi Knight, at least, the one I'm playing as. His name is Drio Quinknight, a human Jedi Sentinel. If you want to know what his character looks like, go to the character creator and put in these values: Body Type (2), Head (6), Scars (1), Complexion (5), Eye Color (7), Beards (1), Hair (9), Hair Color (6), Skin Color (9).**

**Now with that out of the way, I'm going to tell you my plans. There will be four stories going on in this book. The Jedi Knight, which we've just started, the Jedi Consular, the Trooper, and the Smuggler. Those will begin in later chapters, but there will be regular crossovers with the other stories with events such as Flashpoints. And yes, there's going to be a version for the Sith Empire as well. I do plan on having both fanfics meet up at some point, but I'm not entirely sure when that will be. This series will run all the way up to Jedi Under Siege (and beyond), so I'm in this for the long run.**

**I've rambled on long enough. Leave your questions, suggestions, and criticisms in the reviews, and I'll see you guys next time!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Question

**Heroes of the Republic**

Chapter 2: The Question

Fifteen minutes flew by with seemingly no end to the Flesh Raider hordes. For every Flesh Raider Drio cut down, another took its place. Drio knew he could continue fighting for a lot longer, but he also knew that at some point, the constant fighting would take its toll on Drio's body. Then, all it would take would be a simple mistake, and Drio would be dead.

_We need to find where these things are coming from and put an end to this, _the Padawan thought grimly. _And where are our reinforcements?_ A Flesh Raider charged at him, and was swiftly cut down. Then, a familiar beeping rose above the chaos of the battlefield. It was the holocom! Drio retracted himself from the battlefield to answer the call uninterrupted. He hoped that whoever it was, they had good news. Drio found that it was Knight Weller calling him, who looked relieved to see Drio.

"You're unharmed–good," he sighed. "Flesh Raider–agh–shot me in the leg while I was rescuing some Padawans. Don't know where these things got blasters, but they know how to use them. I've been evacuated to a medcenter, but the fighting isn't over."

"I'll push back the enemy, whatever it takes," Drio responded.

"We need to stop them at the source," Weller said. "Another Padawan found a cave tunnel the Flesh Raiders use to enter this valley." He paused. "I need you at that tunnel, making sure the Flesh Raiders don't get any more reinforcements through it."

_Finally, a way to stop this for good,_ Drio thought. "I'll find this cave and seal it."

"We need to end this conflict before anyone else gets hurt. Find the tunnel along the mountain range. May the Force be with you." The call ended, and Drio wasted no time in scouting out his surroundings.

_The mountain range… should be that way, _he guessed, remembering the maps of Tython he was shown once by Master Kizim. With the goal of ending this attack driving his actions, he began the journey to the mountain range.

While on his way to the mountain range, Drio was able to free some Padawans trapped in cages by the Flesh Raiders and sent them on their way back to the training grounds. But Drio knew there were probably far more Padawans still trapped that he would not be able to save, a thought that lingered in his mind as he neared the mountain range.

_Now if I were a bunch of Flesh Raiders, where would I stage my assault on a bunch of defenseless Padawans, _Drio pondered. That's when he spotted it. A large opening on the side of the mountain, clear as day. The human Padawan smirked. _Gotcha._

* * *

"Stop struggling, Padawan," the man spoke. "Your life was over the moment you set foot here."

"You are Jedi. Why would you kill me," the Bith Padawan pleaded desperately.

"Because the order evolve–and you are weak," the "Jedi" retorted.

Just as the Jedi was about to unsheath his lightsaber, a voice shouted, "Whoever you are, step away from that Padawan!" The two turned to see Drio walking up to them with steel in his eyes.

"Hmm… You are… dangerous," the Jedi muttered. The Jedi glared at Drio with a sudden realization and raised his voice. "You killed my soldiers!"

"He commands the Flesh Raiders attacking us," the Padawan added.

"Not attacking–cleansing," the Jedi corrected. "And we have only begun." As he said this, two Flesh Raiders came from deeper within the cavern and joined the man.

"Lay down your weapons. I don't want to hurt you," Drio warned. He didn't want this to end in a fight, especially if this man was a Jedi.

"The old order is dead," the Jedi growled. He withdrew his lightsaber and ignited it, revealing its blue shine. "Long live the new order!"

The battle started immediately with the man lunging at Drio, giving the Padawan barely enough time to draw one of his practice sabers and deflect the man's lightsaber. With his second practice saber, Drio attempted to strike the man in the waist but was blocked quite easily. The two than began a fierce battle consisting mostly of one of them striking with their saber, the other blocking said blow, and the occasional blaster fire by the two Flesh Raiders standing by when they had a clear shot.

_One good shot and I'm screwed,_ Drio worried. _I need to end this, now._ That's when Drio remembered something his old master told him.

"When someone is consumed by the Dark Side, they're more likely to let their emotions cloud their judgment and make mistakes," the Miraluka Master said. "This means if you were to do something like, say, threaten their family, their anger would cause them to make mistakes, mistakes you can exploit. However, threatening someone's family is not the Jedi way, so don't let me catch you threatening families, or you'll wish you were a Sith."

_That's it! I know how to win this! _Drio smirked at the man. "No wonder you want to destroy the Order. They probably saw how bad you suck at swinging a lightsaber and knew you would only slow them down." The man glared at Drio and began swinging in quicker succession with more ferocity. That's when Drio saw his opportunity, a single moment of weakness in the Jedi's defense, and he exploited it. His practice saber flew through the man's defenses and pierced the side of his stomach, eliciting a grunt of pain. As the man staggered at the unexpected injury, Drio continued the assault with two consecutive slashes to the chest, followed by a cross slash across the man's torso. The man stumbled backward onto the ground, gravely wounded by the assault. With the man down, Drio focused his attention toward the two remaining Flesh Raiders, whom he dispatched without a problem.

Drio now looked down at the lifeless bodies of the three enemies he just fought. _It had to have been done._

"That was amazing," the Bith Padawan gawked. "I thought we were dead." Suddenly, footsteps began rapidly approaching, putting Drio on high alert. An old man wearing Jedi robes arrived on the scene, worry plastered across his face.

"You two alright," he asked, gazing at the bodies. "What happened here?"

"This Jedi attacked us, Master Orgus," the Bith Padawan explained. "He was sick… confused."

"Thank the Force that you're both safe," Orgus replied. He quickly knelt down to the dead Jedi, only to come to a very startling revelation. "This man's no Jedi–at least, not one of us."

"If he wasn't like us, what was he," Drio asked.

"I'd call him Sith, but the Empire doesn't know where Tython is," the Jedi Master remarked. He grabbed the lightsaber from the man's corpse and began analyzing it. "This lightsaber… there's something familiar about it. Strange." Orgus turned to Drio and began addressing him. "You held those attackers off all by yourself with only your practice sabers. Impressive." He gave Drio an impressed nod.

Drio bowed his head humbly. "I followed my instincts, that's all."

"They served you well," Orgus responded while clipping the lightsaber to his belt. "This battle's over, but we don't want any more Flesh Raiders coming through here." Orgus stepped over to the tunnel leading deeper into the cavern and examined it. He stuck a hand out, and on cue, the entire cavern began violently quaking. Drio looked around nervously, half-expecting the ceiling to collapse, but it never did. Orgus abruptly swung his arm downward, sending massive chunks of rock from the ceiling that cascaded down to the floor and sealed the tunnel off. Both Drio and the Bith Padawan were left in awe.

"I want to learn how to do that," Drio croaked.

"Spend a few decades practicing, and you'll pick it up in no time," Orgus remarked.

"I'm injured, Master Orgus. Are the training grounds safe for travel," the Padawan asked.

"Not yet," the Jedi Master replied. "I'll get you to a medcenter." Orgus turned his attention to Drio. "You seem alright to travel alone. Report to the Jedi Council."

"This valley isn't safe yet. I don't feel good about leaving," Drio said, expressing his concerns.

"We have Jedi Knights routing out the last attackers," Orgus reassured. "You're needed elsewhere. Follow the path leading out of this valley. You'll find the Jedi Temple through the mountain pass. See you there." Orgus led the injured Padawan out of the cavern, leaving Drio alone with his thoughts.

_Something bad's going on here,_ he stewed. _Hopefully, I can figure out what it is before it's too late. _He began making his way out of the cavern, passing by the many Flesh Raiders he killed on his way inside. _After all, it's a Jedi's duty to stop evil in its tracks._

* * *

**AND WHAT IS UP?! I'm back with the second chapter of my SWTOR Fanfic, **_**Warriors of Light. **_**You thought I wouldn't post another chapter, what with my track record of posting new stories and not continuing them at all. Well, you're dead wrong! I actually intend to see this story through. I promise. Now, the next chapter is actually going to be the introduction of our second main character. WOOHOO! Who will that be? Well, I gotta keep some secrets to myself. After all, how else would I keep you coming back?**

**Since I didn't get any questions or reviews from my first chapter, this is where we end this off. As always, leave your suggestions, questions, and criticisms in the review box down below, and I'll see you… in the next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3: Troubling Events

**Heroes of the Republic**

Chapter 3: Troubling Events

_**Evil threatens to consume the galaxy.**_

_**The Sith Empire's relentless assault destroyed the Jedi Temple and drove the Republic's defenders into exile during the last war.**_

_**A fragile peace has been negotiated, and the Jedi have returned to their long-abandoned homeworld of Tython to regroup and investigate their ancient origins.**_

_**Now, a wise young Padawan travels to Tython's mountain ruins on a perilous quest to complete the Jedi trials and master the mysteries of the Force…**_

* * *

Syo Bakarn meditated in his room at the Jedi Temple, as was usual for a Jedi to do. He, however, had ulterior motives for doing so. Lately, the Jedi Master had been finding himself unable to recall what happened during certain periods. At first, it started out as minutes, but quickly grew to hours, then a day, then two days, then a week. This sudden memory loss troubled Syo. He wasn't old enough to warrant frequent memory loss, and yet, the Force couldn't seem to conjure up an answer for this sudden problem.

_What is wrong with me, _Master Syo pondered. _What could be causing me this disturbing ailment? _Master Syo had speculated a myriad of causes, ranging from undiagnosed illnesses to the works of a powerful Sith Lord, or maybe Syo was older than he thought he was. In any case, he knew he couldn't inform the Jedi Council, not until he got to the bottom of this. Telling them now could lead to the problem only getting worse. They'd strip him of his seat from the Jedi Council and have fellow Jedi monitor him hourly. He couldn't have that, not with the things he needed to get done, not without properly teaching the next generation of Jedi.

The thought of Padawans roused Bakarn from his meditation, realizing he had something to do today. _Master Par asked me to wait for her Padawan at the landing bay while she finished up at her dig site. _He stood up from the floor and retrieved his lightsaber from his desk. He doubted he'd need it, but the Flesh Raiders were getting bolder with their advancements. Syo would rather have his lightsaber and not need it than not have his lightsaber and be put in a dire situation. _I'll have to bring it up with the Jedi Council at our next meeting. Maybe they'll listen to Master Orgus and me. _He suddenly frowned as a sense of dread washed over him. The timing of all of this was too much of a coincidence for Master Syo to ignore, and it began to unnerve him. He set his mind on other things to push the blackouts away from the forefront of his thoughts as he made his way to the Masters' Retreat.

* * *

A shuttle broke the atmosphere of Tython and hovered its way down through the sky. It wasn't long before the shuttle neared the Jedi Training Grounds, catching the attention of a class practicing the ways of the Force. Soon thereafter, it touched down at the loading docks of the Masters' Retreat. The sole passenger of the shuttle disembarked, a young female Mirialan with short black hair and piercing blue eyes, her demeanor solemn. She took a moment to take in the beauty of Tython's wilderness, which reflected the world's connection to the Light Side of the Force. She gazed upon two towering statues of robed Jedi, presumably who found this world. She smiled faintly, grateful for this safe haven for Jedi, before turning and leaving the dock platform. She admired the construction work of the retreat, missing the two Jedi that seemed frozen in place by her mere presence. Ahead of her, she saw an old Jedi waiting for her. The man seemed to recognize and approach her.

"Ah, Padawan Setne. I heard your shuttle arriving." The Jedi, despite his dark gray hair, acted no different than a young man. "I'm Master Syo Bakarn of the Jedi Council. Welcome to Tython." Setne thought it proper to bow at the praise and knowledge of the master's high standings. "As you know, this is the ancestral home of our order, where the Jedi first came to be. And where our most promising Padawans complete their training."

"The chance to see where the first Jedi walked, train where they trained–it's quite an honor." Setne's voice, despite her excitement, remained cool and soft. It showed great restraint when it came to her emotions. Master Syo almost laughed.

"So eager. You and your master should get along nicely." He put a hand to his chin, "Your instructors tell me even in childhood, you had a remarkable connection to the Force. We haven't seen such power in decades. Come, let's go see your Master." He signaled for Setne to follow him and walked off. Setne did so after registering that statement about her power. It wasn't long before they arrived to an open room, with no Master in sight. "I was... hoping your new Master would be here." He turned to Setne with a confused look on his face. "Yuon was supposed to leave her dig site. She's returning specifically to train you."

"Dig site? Is Master Yuon an archaeologist?" Setne inquired.

"In a way, yes. As you become her Padawan, never forget your initial training, nor the Jedi Code." Master Syo started pacing around Setne slowly. "'_There is no emotion, there is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force._' This is–" The sound of hurried footsteps interrupted the Jedi Master's monologue. "Ah, Yuon. I was beginning to worry." Setne stepped aside and watched as an older woman–although judging by her auburn hair, younger than Master Syo–rushed into the room. What immediately caught Setne's eye was the woman's bright green eyes, which contrasted greatly with the woman's dull gray robes.

"So you've arrived safely, my Padawan." She bent over and took a deep breath as if she'd just been running nonstop moments before. "I'm sorry I can't greet you properly, but we already have a crisis on our hands." Both Jedi turned their full attention to Master Yuon.

"I want to know what's happening," Setne said.

"Tython is a treasure trove of ancient Jedi Relics. Recently, our researchers uncovered several 'teaching holograms,' but they've not fully been studied. These holograms may be records of the founders of the Jedi Order–they're absolutely irreplaceable." Yuon turned around and looked out toward the Jedi Training Grounds. "But, we recently got word by a Knight that a large group of Flesh Raiders has begun rampaging through that region. Those priceless holograms are in danger."

"I've never heard of Flesh Raiders before," Setne interjected. This time, Master Syo took it upon himself to answer.

"The Flesh Raiders are Tython's natives. Savage cannibals who destroy everything in their path, including Jedi."

"And the holograms projectors," Yuon added. "Combat teams are pushing the Flesh Raiders back, but retrieving the holograms is the first task of your training." Syo immediately rushed to Yuon.

"No, Yuon, you can't risk a Padawan against Flesh Raiders, even for such important artifacts!"

"A Padawan who was stronger in the force at four years old, than I was at fifteen?" That seemed to put Syo off. "Gifted students need greater challenges."

"So I must recover these holograms, and watch for Flesh Raiders. Where should I begin?" Setne's readiness to put herself in danger also surprised Syo, and pleased Master Yuon.

"The holograms are in the Gnarls. However, be vigilant; that region has dangers of its own." Yuon approached Setne and placed a device in her hands. "If you encounter any difficulties, contact me on this holocommunicator. When you have the holograms, meet me at the Jedi Temple. We have much to discuss." Master Yuon walked briskly from the room, leaving Setne and Syo alone. Master Syo gave the Mirialan Padawan a nod before sitting in front of the computer inside the room, presumably to report the events to the Jedi Council. This left Setne to hurry on over to the Gnarls and recover those holograms. She didn't feel any sense of pride in being given such an important task, just that it needed to be done for the good of the Jedi. Setne hurried from the room, passing by numerous Jedi preparing themselves to head to the Training Grounds like she was. She hopped into an awaiting shuttle and found the surrounding terrain began to blur in motion. It was only a few moments before she arrived at the Training Grounds.

It was chaos. Jedi Knights were entrenched deep into combat with the monstrous beings known as the Flesh Raiders. Setne could see why they were called that, what with their sinewy skin and razor-sharp teeth that could probably eviscerate her. Some opted to pick off their prey from afar with blaster pistols, while others fought for glory in close combat with the Jedi Knights. She even saw what looked to be a Padawan fighting with two practice sabers as he mercilessly ended the lives of approaching Flesh Raiders.

"Padawan, come here quickly! The training grounds are not safe today!" The worried voice of a man cut through the turmoil, bringing Setne's attention to a Jedi Master standing near the platform that lead to the battle. Setne cautiously approached the Master, on the lookout for any stray blaster bolts that might try to cut her life short.

"I always expected my trials would be a challenge." The sarcasm dripped from her voice like venom. The Jedi Master smirked briefly before returning his serious expression.

"Normally we minimize the danger until a Padawan is settled in and trained," he remarked. "You're Yuon's apprentice though, aren't you? We could certainly put your combat training to use." The two instinctively ducked as a blaster bolt beamed right over their heads, hitting a nearby post. "The short version is we have Flesh Raiders invading the training grounds, and a group of Padawans without combat skills is trapped in the hills."

"Just let me know what's required. I'm here to help." This time, the master couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you. I've got a beacon here." The master pulled out an advanced evac beacon, one Setne had never seen before. He took her hand and placed it delicately, yet firmly. "If you can find the Padawans and set the beacon, we'll send an evac shuttle fast as we can." He glanced at the battle raging behind him. "A group of Jedi from the temple is headed this way, but maybe not fast enough. May the Force be with you." He noticed two injured Padawan limping up the platform ramp and rushed to their side, helping them to safety while giving Setne an affirmative nod. Setne returned the nod back to the Master before staring at the battle before her. She reached behind her and returned with a standard practice saber. Although it was only a practice saber, Jedi skilled enough in the ways of martial combat could use a broom as a deadly weapon. That wasn't her secret weapon, however. As both Masters Syo and Yuon said, she was one of the strongest Force users the Order had seen in a long time. Things that took normal Padawans months to learn only took a few days for Setne to accomplish. She was holding up large chunks of rock by age eight.

There was no telling how great Setne could grow.

* * *

**And I thought Young Justice took longer to make a continuation…**

**WHAT'S UP!? I'm back, finally! You may have been wondering where I've been… okay I know none of you have been wondering. Honestly, I don't know where I've been. Life just sorta… happened. However, my birthday was just this past Thursday, so I decided to splurge a bit and get myself a two-month subscription to SWTOR just in time for the new expansion, although it'll be quite a while before I get to that, especially because I have to do eight full playthroughs of this game. But because of that subscription, I was able to get the races I wanted for my characters, and that motivated me enough to finally continue with this story. I'm hoping to get the fourth chapter out relatively soon, but I'm just glad I finally found a hole in my schedule to finish this up. Also, this story is undergoing a name change. From now on, this story will be called, "Heroes of the Republic." This is to differentiate it from the other stories that will be coming later down the line.**

**No suggestions in the four months I was gone, so that's where this State of the Fanfic ends. As always, leave your suggestions, questions, and criticisms in the review box down below, and I'll see you… in the next chapter!**

**Also here are the character specs for her in case you wanted a better picture:**

**Name: Setne Elysias, Race: Mirialan, Gender: Female, Class: Jedi Sage, Body Type: 2, Head: 14, Scars: 1, Complexion: 14, Eye Color: 3, Tattoos: 15, Hair: 22, Hair Color: 8, Skin Color: 6**


	4. Chapter 4: The Founders

**Heroes of the Republic**

Chapter 4: The Founders

Setne examined the forest that made up the Gnarls as she was guided through by the Force's will. The trees sprouted up from the vibrant grass, which shared the same color as Master Yuon's eyes. No matter where she stepped, the light side of the Force blanketed her, filling her with strength and serenity.

_This tranquility… this jubilation… It seems to flow through everything on Tython, except for the Flesh Raiders… How could such dark beings exist in a place filled to the brim with the light side of the Force?_ She closed her eyes and traveled back to her earlier encounter with the feral creatures back on the platform. They charged mindlessly at her, bursting with hatred and fury, wanting no more than to tear her apart and crush her like a bug. Setne maneuvered around every blow swung her way, using their own anger against them. She'd cause one Flesh Raider to accidentally shoot another just by standing in their near proximity and dodging in the nick of time. She'd stand in between two charging Flesh Raiders and jump over them right before they'd swing, cutting each other down instead of her. There were a few times she was forced to summon chunks of earth to lob at her foes, or when she drew her saber just to parry a blow back into her foe. For the most part, she made the Flesh Raiders look like fools. Her mind snapped back to reality, her realizing she had a mission that needed to be expedited. She increased her pace to a light jog.

Soon, she approached a stone bridge, cracked and eroded, a small platform stretching out over the water at its center. As she got closer, Setne realized a large, circular device laid in the space the platform provided. She realized this was what Master Yuon told her about. Setne stopped directly in front of the hologram device, crouching down to scan the console for any power switches. When she found one, she extended a finger to and pressed it down… Nothing. _Of course_, Setne thought, It's never that easy. She placed her hands on the console and felt around it, eventually finding an access panel. A slight tug was all that was needed to pry it from the hologram device, revealing a jumbled mess of wires. Setne looked upon the mess with confusion, the old technology a cacophony in her eyes. The Mirialan Jedi groaned and rubbed a hand through her black hair, unable to see the solution to the carnage that lay inside the machine.

A light breeze blew around her hands as they suddenly reached into the device of their own accord, as if someone or something was guiding them for her. She knelt there as her hands fiddled with the inner workings of the machine for a few moments, nudging wires out of her way and plugging in the correct wires into the correct outlets. Finally, after what seemed to be five minutes, a loud whir resonated from the machine, notifying Setne to the device's now-functioning state. Elated, Setne reached for the power switch once more, pressing it down with renewed vigor. Instead of silence, a man manifested from the hologram device. Setne immediately noticed he wore ancient Jedi robes, the type that she'd seen in the history pads during her Padawan training.

"Activation protocol begins," the man said. "So, after the long silence, finally someone comes. I am Garon Jard. Millennia ago, I stood as a founder of the Jedi Order."

_The long silence?_ Setne wondered. "For a hologram, you're surprisingly articulate."

"We needed worthy vessels for our knowledge." The Jedi cleared his throat before continuing. "When the Jedi Order began, I saw we must be dedicated to peace. To calming our emotions, and ending war across the galaxy. If we fought, it should only be in self-defense. That is the founding principle of civilization."

_Only self-defense?_ Setne raised her eyebrow, realizing the contradiction between the hologram and what the Jedi stood for now. "Being civilized also means defending those weaker than yourself."

"Indeed. But we must do so knowing the mark it will leave, upon history and on ourselves. The Jedi may have changed, but galactic peace has always remained one of our goals." The Jedi shifted to a more rigid tone. "Activation protocol complete. Go well." The hologram disappeared instantly, immediately followed by a small disk drive being ejected from a slot in the device's base. Setne tentatively grabbed the drive from its slot and placed it in a small, brown satchel she'd brought with her to Tython.

_One down, three to go._ Setne knew that there was no time to waste and immediately set forth to find the next hologram. While walking, she began to reflect on her current state of affairs. She'd just arrived and already was met with danger at every corner. This isn't normal, at least it shouldn't be. Setne had a strange feeling that something big was on the horizon; not just for Tython, but for the whole galaxy. It seemed the Force felt that as well, as no matter how much she tried to forget the thought, it kept popping back up like a Kowakian monkey-lizard.

"GRAGHH!" The sounds of animalistic grunting snapped Setne back to reality, who instinctively reached for practice saber, only to discover there were no Flesh Raiders charging at her. She soon discovered where they came from though, as a few yards ahead of here a group of three Flesh Raiders surrounding a makeshift cage. In between the massive bodies of the creatures, she could make out the shape of something curled up on the floor inside the cage. She realized, to her horror, that the Flesh Raiders had captured a Padawan.

_By the Force… They're taking prisoners!_ It was both reassuring and disturbing. It seemed that they weren't out to kill all the Jedi, at least not immediately. But what they would do to a prisoner terrified Setne to even think about. Setne's mind was quickly made up. She withdrew her practice saber and crept over to a nearby bush. She looked at her surroundings for anything she could use and set her eyes upon the massive stone wall that blocked the Flesh Raiders off on one side. Yes, if she could cause some debris to fall onto them, that could give her the opening she needed. She reached out her hand and closed her eyes, concentrating on removing chunks of stone that would cause some damage, but not cause the wall to collapse and crush the caged Padawan. She was met with resistance by the makeup of the rocky wall, the stone not wanting to separate from its sedimentary brethren, but soon felt a slight release as she removed several pieces of jagged rock. With a sudden downward motion of her hand, she flung the debris down at the Flesh Raiders. The Flesh Raiders' heads darted up in confusion, followed by audible surprise as they saw debris racing toward them. They bent down and covered their important parts, not wanting to suffer any severe damage.

This was Setne's chance. She leaped out of the bush like a bat out of Mustafar and made contact with one of the Flesh Raiders. The Flesh Raider's eyes widened, but before it could do anything, it was hit with multiple slices of Setne's practice saber. The two other Flesh Raiders regained their awareness and noticed their fallen comrade, but were unable to do launch a counterattack before Setne was on the second one. She Force-slammed the Flesh Raider into the wall, making a loud crack as its head collided forcefully against the immovable object. Her figure blurred as she rushed forward and jammed her practice saber jammed into the Flesh Raider's chest. It roared in pain, but not much else, as it then slumped against the wall and the saber, dead.

The only Flesh Raider left howled at the sight of its dead comrade and charged at Setne. Setne attempted to strike it, only to be yanked back, feeling heavy resistance against her pull. She glanced at her saber only to discover it was jammed tight in the Flesh Raider's corpse. She came to that realization just before the third Flesh Raider seized her by her neck and lifted her off the ground.

She was powerless to do anything as it did so, and no matter how hard she hit its arm, she couldn't break free. It growled with satisfaction, a wide toothy maw opening as it did so. It extended its other arm back, ready to disembowel her with its clawed hands in retribution for its fallen comrade. With her oxygen depleting fast and her stomach about to be torn open, Setne was desperate for a solution. She scanned the nearby area for anything she could use, her eyes darting rapidly with a panicked expression. Finally, she spotted one of the rocks she'd pulled out earlier, still intact despite being dropped from several feet. She reached out with the Force, yet couldn't get a hold of it in her panicked state. It was always just out of her reach, it seemed.

Her vision began to fade, spots dotting her vision. Her breathing slowed, her chest stopped moving, and she seemed to go limp in the beast's grasp. The Flesh Raider howled one final time, before propelling its hand forth… only to be struck by a chunk of stone to the back of the head! It instinctively dropped Setne, howling and holding its head as it stumbled back. Setne fell roughly on her knees, coughing and gasping for air, feeling the sweet oxygen course through her lungs. Setne had managed to calm herself just enough to finally take hold of the debris and fling it at the Flesh Raider's head, and not a moment too soon.

There was no time to waste, the Flesh Raider regained its presence of mind and bellowed furiously at the Mirialan Padawan. She looked over to her practice saber, still impaled in the chest of the dead Flesh Raider and reached out to the Force once more. The Flesh Raider charged at her with all its fury, while Setne pulled with all her might. Just as it seemed the Flesh Raider would pounce on the girl, the saber rocketed to Setne's outstretched hand, before she immediately did a full turn swipe behind her. The Flesh Raider's momentum carried it past Setne, with a gaping horizontal slash in its chest that bled like a waterfall. The barbaric creature let out a final gurgle before it fell forward, its eyes glossed over.

Setne stared at the now-dead Flesh Raider, her eyes wide with adrenaline. She thought about how close she was to death, how her journey would've been over before it ever began. And that poor Padawan would've been left to that monster's mercy… wait...

_The Padawan!_ She bounded toward the cage and looked inside, desperate to determine the Padawan's condition. She was met with an equally worried gaze from a young girl with blonde hair, the lines from where tears had flown fresh on her face. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes. At least now I am." The girl was not in a good place, that was evident to Setne. The girl was in a constant state of trembling, her figure still curled into a ball. That wasn't good.

"I'm going to get you out of here. Can I trust you'll be able to make your way back to the training grounds?"

"The training grounds? That's where those… things are! I can't go back there!" The girl's pupils shrank and her trembling intensified at the thought of being attacked again. Setne attempted to ease the girl's fears by smiling.

"Yes, you can. There are Jedi Knights already there fending them off. As long as you are nimble and quiet, you can get there without being spotted." The girl shook her head and whimpered, tears threatening to return. "I know that you're scared. Trust me, I am too. But you're a Padawan of the Jedi Order, you have the Force on your side. Use it, and it will not lead you astray." The girl remained silent, processing what Setne told her.

"... I can do it." Setne gave the girl a wide grin.

"Good. I'm going to let you out now." She examined the door to the cage and quickly determined what kept her trapped was a crude lock. Simple enough. She bashed it off with the hilt of her saber and opened the door to be greeted by a sudden and grateful hug. Setne froze as the girl wrapped her arms around her.

"Thank you," the girl said with eyes closed.

"Of course…" Setne reciprocated the embrace with one of her own.

"Avali. My name's Avali." Avali still seemed unsure of returning to a battlefield, but Setne certainly helped alleviate her fears a little. Avali broke the embrace and moved past Setne, back toward the way Setne came. Setne watched as she went, as Avali turned around once more to look at Setne, before the freed Padawan rushed off into the Gnarls. Setne looked out into the woods where Avali went, feeling that almost dying was worth it in the end. But it was time to move on. After all, she still had to find three holograms, as well as the missing Padawans.

* * *

After about a half-hour of walking, Setne came to another stone bridge, with an identical platform, with an identical hologram projector. It seemed that this one required no jury-rigging, however, as a female Jedi came up as soon as she pressed a button.

"Activation protocol begins."

_What is it with that phrase? I thought these were actual people?_

"Ah. Another has come to listen. When the Jedi Order was founded, I, Cala Brin, said we should devote ourselves to justice. True justice cannot be driven by emotion. We Jedi can set our passions aside, and seek the truth without fear or favor." Now, Setne was confused. First, the Jedi sought peace without becoming peacekeepers themselves. Now, this woman stated that justice cannot be motivated by emotion, when it was the sole reason justice existed.

"But if you can't feel mercy, justice suffers," Setne argued. Master Cala shook her head.

"Sorrow for the victim, or outrage at the crime, can blind us. To see clearly, such feelings must be put aside." Setne almost frowned at the holographic Jedi, but managed to keep her composure. "It has served us well. We Jedi are renowned for our fairness and honesty. Now, that reputation is yours to keep. Activation protocol complete."

Just like before, a disk drive popped out of the projector, and Setne pocketed it. She was just about to move on when something caught her ear. She couldn't tell what it was at first, but soon, she realized that it was voices. She had to investigate. She could just hear it coming from above her, behind some rocks. She looked around for a way to get up there, and identified a pathway located further downstream. She expertly hopped over the railing of the bridge and landed in the rushing water below. From there, she waded with wet boots down to the path, and hiked up it to where she heard the voices. She arrived to around where she heard the voices and was surprised to find three Padawan, two humans and one Zabrak. One of the humans, a male, was clearly injured, although it didn't seem to her that one of them didn't care that much.

"How's he looking?" the other human, a female, asked.

"He should be resting in the Jedi Temple," the Zabrak cooly replied, "But if you're determined to press on... I can help him along."

"Give him the last of the kolto if you have to. We'll fight again soon."

_Not good. I have to stop them._ She quickly jogged over to them as the Padawans then spotted her.

"Hey! Good to see another Padawan alive out here. You're lucky those creatures haven't caught you yet," the female said.

_If only they knew._ It was then that Setne remembered what that Jedi Master at the platform asked her to do. It seemed she'd found the missing Padawans. "I've been searching for you. What happened out here?"

"Knew it," the Padawan on the ground croaked. "Knew they'd send rescuers..." The Zabrak Padawan shushed him and told him to rest.

"We came seeking knowledge of the Jedi Code. The Flesh Raiders interrupted our trial."

"I've never fought like that in my life. We killed it, but Jerridan was badly injured," the female Padawan added. Setne looked at Jerridan, seeing him clutch his stomach.

"Your friend—how serious is the wound?"

"It pains him greatly. He should not be moving." He slightly glared at the female Padawan, "It is not the Jedi way to seek battle and revenge while a man suffers, especially if he's our friend, Avitla."

The female Padawan raised her voice and glared back. "That's your opinion, Mennaus. It's not what we decided." She turned back to Setne and raised a fist. "Training or not, a bunch of animals won't keep us from becoming Jedi."

"Isn't she right? Jedi don't give up... do they?" Jerridan tried to get up again, but Mennaus stopped him, probably having done it a number of times beforehand given the Zabrak's exasperated expression.

"She is wrong. Remember the Jedi Code. 'There is no passion, there is—"

"That's enough, Mennaus! The Jedi Code won't help us here!" Avitla pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, if you want to help us—we could use you." She gave a Setne an almost sadistic look. "We could make the Flesh Raiders pay..." Setne could feel the Force emanate from Avitla, but something was wrong about it. It felt... sinister, like the entrance to a cave devoid of light. What she felt sent shivers down Setne's spine. She could only guess it was... the Dark Side. Avitla was walking a thin line, one false move and she would fall.

"You're walking a dangerous path. You and your friends need to get back to camp while you still can." This seemed to dissuade Avitla, and whatever Dark Side energy was in her immediately dissipated.

"But... we were so close to finishing the trial..." Mennaus put a hand on Avitla's shoulder.

"No... We are not." Avitla slumped her shoulders and sighed. She looked at Mennaus, who gave her an understanding smile. She replied with her own smile, taking his hand and squeezing it lightly before kneeling down to continue tending to her friend. The Zabrak Padawan noticed the beacon on Setne's belt. "I see you have a signal beacon. Leave it for us, and as soon as we have gathered our things, we will signal for a ride back." Setne, remembering that she was given the beacon, took it off her belt and handed it to Mennaus, who gave a grateful nod. "Come Avitla, let's get prepared for the rescue team." Avitla nodded slowly and set out to gather things with Mennaus.

Jerridan looked at Setne and mouthed the words "Thank you" to her. She simply bowed in response and turned to walk away.

_That could've turned out terribly down the line. I'm glad I was there or else..._ Setne didn't even want to think about it. All she wanted was to continue her trial, so that's what she focused on. It took some hiking and wading through more rivers, but Setne soon arrived back at the bridge she found the second hologram at and followed the bridge over the river this time, then down the barren path.

It wasn't long before Setne came upon another stone bridge, and if the pattern were to continue, another hologram. However, Setne's eyes were immediately drawn to one tiny issue. A couple of feet to the right of the bridge stood a manka cat and her cubs. Setne had studied up on the fauna of Tython before coming here, and knew of the infamous manka cat. To most Jedi, they were simply inconveniences. But manka cats had been the cause of many unfortunate deaths of Padawans seeking to undergo their trials, Padawans like Setne.

Now, most Padawans would simply avoid the group of felines, or draw their sabers and engage in a death-defying duel with the savage beasts. Setne, however, was done with fighting for today. And with the way that manka cat stared her down, she assumed stealth was out of the question. That meant there was only one option left.

Setne knelt down then and there, moving the stray pebble out of her path as her body made contact with the dirt-covered path. She closed her eyes, losing sight of the beautiful flora of Tython for now. She took a deep breath, then exhaled. Like the many times she'd done in her training, Setne reached out into the force. She felt… everything. The flowers, swaying in the light breeze without a care in the world. The insects, marching one-by-one past her as they went to gather food for their queen. The trees, beacons of life and hope, and, of the Force. But most relevantly, she felt the mother and her cubs. She could feel the fear in the mother rise. Despite her eyes being clenched shut, she could see the manka cat slink in front of her cubs, ready to pounce on this creature if it so much as moved toward them. She could feel the animosity rising in the mother. Setne reached into this poor creature's mind, her soothing aura loosening the mother's nerves. She only spoke one word, but it was enough.

_Don't. _Just like that, the manka cat understood that Setne meant no harm, but that she would not hesitate to slay them all if it came to it. It growled indifferently, roaming off deeper into the forests. The cubs took a second to catch up, glancing back at Setne as if wondering if they should disobey their mother and attack anyway. Another growl, this time one that threatened punishment, spurred them into action. Setne opened her eyes, the threat long gone. She smiled, happy that this situation turned out the way it did. She secretly hoped all situations like these could go this smoothly, but deep down, she knew that it wasn't possible.

Setne approached the stone bridge, repeating the same, boring process of booting up the terminal as the previous two times. Another male Jedi glimmered from the hologram, this one a Zabrak.

"Activation protocol begins."

_Ok, these aren't real people. It's pretty clear… but then, what are they? _Setne wasn't into all that high-end tech stuff, so she could only dream of what these holograms truly were.

"A new Jedi comes to learn? Excellent, excellent." The Jedi was genuinely pleased that someone had finally come to speak with him. "I am Ters Sendon, keeper of the histories. A found, and chronicler, of the Jedi Order." Setne was shocked, to say the least.

_A founder? That means those other two were founders…_

"I saw us becoming guardians of knowledge and secrets," the hologram continued. "We Jedi would safeguard the wisdom of the galaxy."

"Gathering such knowledge would be a great adventure," Setne replied, who couldn't help but smile at the thought of learning so much from the Jedi of old.

"My travels took me across many worlds, more than any other founder. I saw, heard, and dreamed." Ters looked away wistfully, remembering simpler times. "Jedi seek to dispel ignorance. To understand other cultures, and bring that understanding to others. Never forget that, wherever your path leads. Activation protocol complete."

Setne liked this hologram more than the others. The pursuit of knowledge is something she can appreciate on a personal level. It reminded her of Master Yuon, and of herself in a way. She retrieved the disk drive from the console and went on her merry way.

_Now, if I recall correctly, the final console shouldn't be that far from here. _Setne was correct in her assessment, as she quickly saw the final bridge. And just like that, her quest was finished. She walked over the weathered cobblestone, arriving in front of the old hologram projector that she'd come to be familiar with. With a press of a button, a Jedi Master appeared, at least, that's what would've happened. Instead, well, nothing did. Setne arched an eyebrow, perplexed as to why nothing was happening. She knelt down, prying open the front panel and peering into the innards of the old machinery. She took a look around, making sure no wires had been accidentally removed. Nothing was wrong, at least it shouldn't have been. So what was causing this?

She slid out of the machine, moving to take a look at the terminal instead. That's when she saw a small slit of an opening in the center of the terminal. Her eyes widened when she realized what she was looking at.

_That's where the disk drive comes out. So that means… _This was concerning. She had to inform Master Yuon. _Hopefully, she isn't preoccupied at the moment,_ she thought worriedly, remembering how her master was late to her own Padawan's arrival. She rifled through her pockets and pulled out her communicator, placing a call to her master. Luckily for Setne, Master Yuon answered almost immediately.

"Ah, Setne, yes. Have you retrieved all the artifacts?" She looked relieved that Setne had called in, presumably worried about her and the artifacts.

"That's the problem," Setne responded restlessly. Yuon gave Setne a concerned expression, but let her continue before jumping to conclusions. "One of the holoprojectors has been stolen."

"Stolen? But the Flesh Raiders don't steal, they destroy." Master Yuon looked away, visibly troubled by this development. "I'll look into this. If you have the other holograms, come and meet me at the Jedi Temple. I'm sending you directions now." A single, ear-piercing beep alerted Setne to the acquisition of said coordinates via her communicator. "And please, Padawan, be careful."

"I will, Master Yuon. You stay safe too." She ended the call, with more questions than answers. If the Flesh Raiders didn't take the artifact, then who did? Maybe she forgot that she'd sent another Padawan to retrieve them, or maybe she was wrong about the Flesh Raiders. Either way, Setne would get to the bottom of this.

* * *

**Hello hello hello. I bet you didn't expect this, huh? Well, it's finally time I get off my ass and continue this amazing story! Welcome, to **_**Heroes of the Republic! **_**I've been going through my catalogue of stories and updating the ones that needed to be. First, I uploaded the second chapter of**_** Dragon Ball Foresight**_**, my newest story. Then, I finally finished the third chapter of **_**Knight's Birth**_**, my other Star Wars story set in the Prequel Trilogy. And finally, I had to come back where it all started, with **_**Heroes of the Republic**_**, my SWTOR story consisting of all four Republic class stories. Don't worry, I'm not ditching this story, far from it. In fact, I have more incentive to play it now. I finally upgraded my shitty gaming laptop from five years ago to a pretty beefy gaming PC. Now, I'll be able to run SWTOR like a champ. As for the future of this story, well, I'm not gonna say anything definitive. But, I will say the next chapter will focus on the Trooper story. I'm also debating as to whether or not I keep it to two shorter chapters per chaSyoracter for their introductions, or if I make their introductions one chapter, but a much longer one as a result. I'll continue toying with it.**

**Now, if you read my other stories, you'll know at this point, I do a cast, listing all the characters and their voices. And this story is no exception, except, I have four chapters of characters to list now, so here goes nothing.**

**Drio Quinknight - David Hayter**

**Derrin Weller - Cam Clarke**

**Orgus Din - Robert Pine**

**Syo Bakarn - Phil LaMarr**

**Setne Elysias - Athena Karkanis**

**Yuon Par - Olivia Hussey**

**Master Relnex - Chris Cox**

**Garon Jard - Richard Doyle**

**Padawan Avali - Kari Wahlgren**

**Cala Brin - Jen Cohn**

**Padawan Avitla - Hedy Burress**

**Padawan Mennaus - Roger Craig Smith**

**Padawan Jerridan - Daragh O'Farrell**

**Ters Sendon - Miles Anderson**

**Ok, so it was not that bad at all. Unfortunately, Callef's VA is unknown, so I won't be listing him here. The cast is basically unchanged. Since David and Athena are the respective VA's for the Male Jedi Knight and Female Jedi Consular respectively, and since Drio and Setne are the stand-ins for those characters, then I just decided to leave it as is. Plus, who doesn't want to be voiced by Solid Snake?**

**And that's about it. So until next time SWTOR fans, continue being allies with the Force. A powerful ally, it is.**


	5. Chapter 5: Welcome to Havoc Squad

**Heroes of the Republic**

Chapter 5: Welcome to Havoc Squad

_Chaos grips the Galactic Republic. Influential star systems break away from the millennia-old alliance, angered over the Senate's treaty with the Sith Empire._

_On the planet of Ord Mantell, civil war erupts between loyal Republic citizens and violent separatist extremists waging a campaign of terror against their own people._

_Now, an elite young sergeant from the Republic's famous Havoc Squad has arrived to help defeat the separatists and restore peace to this war-ravaged world…_

* * *

The shuttle rocked violently as an explosion nearly took off its left wing, causing the ship's only occupant to jolt from the land of fictitious nightmares to the land of real ones. He groaned with misery deep in his heart, for his precious sleep had been ruined by the machinations of war once more.

"_Sorry, forgot to mention the ride was gonna get a little, uh, bumpy,_" the smooth voice of the shuttle's pilot apologized. Honestly, the man didn't usually mind the sounds of warfare. He was a soldier, after all. But with what he's been through, he wanted, no, needed the sleep. He needed to be at the top of his game if he wanted to continue being a member of Havoc Squad. "_So, uh, Sergeant Bolwill, is it? Mind tellin' me why the Republic's payin' me the big bucks to get you on this shitshow of a planet?_" The sergeant would've answered, but he was pretty sure Havoc Squad was supposed to be a little secretive as to their actions on certain planets. Such as Ord Mantell. So instead, he stuck with the tried and true answer.

"Can't. It's classified information." Sergeant Bolwill, or rather, Deron Bolwill was young for his rank, not who you'd expect to be a member of Havoc Squad. Then again, he did look much older than he actually was, what with a cybernetic implant running from the right side of his forehead down to his cheek. Now that was a story, a story for another day. The pilot clicked his tongue, clearly unsatisfied with the answer he'd gotten from the rookie elite.

"_Eh, suit yourself. I honestly don't care. I'm gettin' a fortune from this job anyways." _The sergeant rolled his eyes at the pilot's open greed, before another shockwave rocked the entire shuttle to its core. "_Okay, you might wanna hold on to somethin'. Things are about to get rough."_

As the tan trooper gripped the bottom of his seat, the entire ship tilted thirty-degrees, nearly sending him tumbling to the floor. The sound of cannon fire peeped in from the outside, followed by the sound of more explosions. The ship rocked once more, sending Deron crashing into the wall behind him. He grunted, the ship's hull doing more damage to his back than his back did to the hull. After a few more seconds of this back and forth, in which Deron's body was thrown about like a ragdoll, the ship finally eased out, the sound of war getting quieter and quieter.

"_Aight, seems we cleared orbit. We're scot-free as far as I'm concerned._" The young sergeant breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his career wouldn't end in the back of some shady pilot's rundown dumpster fire of a spaceship. It wasn't long before the ship slowed to a stop, allowing for the door at the back to lower itself to the ground. Light blinded the sleep-deprived sergeant as he retrieved his blaster from right next to him, placing it in a harness on his back. He clambered out of the shuttle to see organized chaos. Intelligence officers running back and forth with intel on the front lines, smugglers receiving their pay from high-ranking officials for ferrying their weapons onto the war-ridden planet, soldiers marching in formation as they gathered into their tanks and set off for combat. However, amongst this chaos, one person stood out to the young soldier.

A dark-skinned man with cornrows, wearing white armor with orange-stripes, an armor combination only associated with one elite squadron in the entire Republic Army. Yes, you guessed it, Havoc Squad.

Deron weaved through the crowded hanger, excusing himself when he accidentally caused a stack of papers to fly everywhere. After quickly exiting from that awkward encounter, he found himself standing in front of the Havoc Squad member, who eyed him down with an unnerving curiosity. The sergeant stood there dumbfounded for a moment before he realized he should probably salute his superior. Sergeant Bolwill straightened his posture and put his hand to his forehead, saluting the Havoc Squad soldier in the proper manner. The man stood there for a moment, his eyes narrowed onto Deron's. Then, he let out a light chuckle, before repeating the action back to Deron. Deron internally sighed, having not screwed up his first encounter with a member of Havoc Squad. The man wordlessly motioned for Deron to enter the tank, so that's what the young sergeant did. Deron saw the man survey the area behind him, but for what reason he didn't know, before entering the tank behind him. Once inside, he sauntered up to the front of the tank and hit the cabin wall, alerting the driver that all occupants were inside. The tank roared to life, shifting everyone's bodies slightly as it began trucking through the war-torn landscape of Ord Mantell.

Deron took a seat opposite the other soldiers in the tank. Surprisingly, the man sat down right next to him. He practically laid himself out in the seat, not caring about the weird looks the other soldiers gave him as he did so. Then, in an even more surprising move, the man spoke for the first time since they'd met.

"Ah, there's not a feeling in this galaxy like riding a hundred-tonne walker right through the middle of a combat zone, huh, kid?" The man's voice was deep and husky, something that initially caught Deron off guard. Then again, years of shouting and inhaling smoke from explosions certainly didn't do wonders for your lungs. A beeping sound came from a console next to the pilot's cabin, drawing the two soldiers' attention.

"_Approaching Drelliad village, sir,_" the garbled voice of the APC driver informed. Deron had no idea why his voice sounded so robotic. Must've been something with the microphone. "_Scopes show small-arms fire and enemy movements in all quarters. Separatists are definitely moving on the objective._" The man shook his head, annoyed at the separatists' antics, it seemed.

"Another beautiful day on Ord Mantell!" he added, still smiling. "You excited, kid? Nervous?" The older soldier shifted his body so that he was now facing Deron, further emphasizing the massive size difference between the two. Deron was athletic, but the man in front of him must've been taking some muscle-enhancing drugs. "You know, you're the first entry to Havoc Squad in some time."

Deron shook his head and responded, "I've got nothing to be nervous about–fighting is my life." It was true. He was a soldier at heart. He'd always idolized the soldiers that protected his home back when he was a young boy. He'd been a part of the local militia growing up, and as soon as he turned eighteen, he'd enlisted in the Republic Army. He'd served eight years at this point, making his accomplishment of joining Havoc Squad all the more astonishing. The man took a liking to this answer, lightly tapping him on the shoulder.

"Confidence! I like it! Getting tapped for Havoc Squad at your age is nothing to sneeze at." The praise the man had given Deron eased his worries ever so slightly. "I'm Lieutenant Bex Kolos, but everyone in Havoc calls me Gearbox. We're a tight unit–you'll like it with us." Gearbox's face hardened from his friendly demeanor. It was business time. "Let me tell you why we're here. The separatists have nabbed a Republic bomb off of a downed transport–a serious bomb, one of those orbital strike numbers. There's no telling where these grimy bushwackers have hidden the thing. They have popular support and hideouts everywhere. Finding this bomb won't be easy."

Deron's eyes opened wide in shock. He'd heard stories of the damage those things could do, so the thought of one in the wrong hands deeply concerned the sergeant. Still, those were stories. He needed confirmation.

"What are the weapon specs?" Gearbox's gloved hand formed into a fist, upon which he rested his chin.

"The bomb is designed to slag a huge city, so it could wipe this little island right off the map." Yep, the stories were right. Deron was definitely shitting himself right now. "You'll get a full op brief once we reach Fort Garnik. For now, just sit back and–" The tank rocked violently as an explosion impacted its outer shell, sending Deron sprawling on the floor. He groaned, this being the second time he'd been thrown forcibly inside a moving vehicle today.

"_Code red! Code red! We've been hit by an AP missile! A shoulder-launcher from somewhere in the village! Everyone hold on–" _Another explosion caused the tank to lurch, this time sending Gearbox out of his seat. Somehow, the soldier managed to stay standing, regaining his balance before he could fall like a complete idiot. He stumbled over to the cabin and banged on the door.

"Driver! Driver? Blast it, he's down." Gearbox whirled around, an angry scowl smeared on his face. "Backwater separatists aren't supposed to have armor-piercing missiles! They'll tear up every convoy that passes through here!" Deron slowly rose from a kneeling position, his body aching from being thrown around.

"Major hardware in enemy hands–seems like the kind of thing we should've been warned about," he groaned, stretching his back.

"Let's get out of this alive and worry about filing complaints later, all right?" Deron nodded, reaching back for his rifle to make sure it was still there. "Fixing things is my specialty, kid–I'm nowhere near the fighter you are," Gearbox stated matter-of-factly. Okay, the praise was getting too much, now. Deron, a better fighter than a member of _the _Havoc Squad? Gearbox had to be pulling his leg. "I'll stay and get this walker moving again. You'll disable the separatists' missile launchers. Understood?" The two began moving toward the back of the tank, toward the ramp-door. Deron made sure not to bump into anyone this time.

"We were hit pretty hard," Deron noted. "What are the odds of getting this thing moving again?"

Gearbox shrugged and replied, "Not sure, honestly. But it takes months to requisition a new one." Deron nodded and smiled knowingly, agreeing with the idea that bureaucracy was bullshit. "The separatists will probably have their missile launchers piled together in a cache somewhere in the village–and you can bet that cache will be heavily guarded." Gearbox tore off the door console, fiddling with the wires that were strewn about inside. "Find the cache, disable the missile launchers, and then double-time it back here." Whatever Gearbox did worked, as the ramp slowly opened from the top and settled down on the ground. He turned to Deron, as if to make a point. "Got it, Sergeant Bolwill?"

"I'm on it," Deron replied with a grin. The young sergeant moved up next to his superior, looking out on the hellish warzone that was Ord Mantell. Up in the sky, a cargo ship dodged and weaved between the cannon fire outputted by anti-aircraft guns on both sides. Soldiers relentlessly charged forward, blasting enemies with their rifles, falling to blaster fire themselves, and being replaced by other soldiers, from which the process would repeat over and over until one side ran out of capable men.

"Good luck out there, kid." Gearbox retreated back inside the tank, leaving Deron to gaze out at the battlefield in front of him. He wasn't affected by the carnage one bit, not like the other soldiers who were cowering behind him in the tank. He'd just moved the playing fields. He reached back for his rifle and unholstered it, feeling the metal surface as he brought it in front of him. He inspected the weapon, in case it'd gotten damaged in the explosion. With his i's dotted and his t's crossed, he took one step down the ramp, then another, then another. The young sergeant slowly inched his way down the ramp, scanning his surroundings for any enemy contact. It was weird. Despite the chaos raging around him, the area was completely silent. Something wasn't right.

Deron twisted to his right, instinctively pulling the trigger and firing a single laser bolt into the chest of a slinking soldier.

_Damn it! It's an ambush! _He gritted his teeth and slid down the ramp, shouting for Gearbox to shut the tank behind him. He fired his rifle once more as the head of a separatist poked out from behind cover, unfortunately hitting the rock instead of the soldier. The soldier, in turn, discharged his own weapon, blindly hitting everywhere but Deron. Still, it forced the Havoc Squad recruit to dive behind the tank, using its thick armor as his own cover. From there, he waited until the sound of laser bolts incinerating dust ceased. Even then, he waited just a few more seconds before poking his head out from the side of the tank, his rifle poised at where the enemy's head would be. He was correct, the separatist peeking his head out cluelessly to see if he hit anything. The moment his head was out of cover, Deron discharged two shots. The first missed, sadly. But before the soldier could dive back to the safety of his rock, the second shot flew clean through his forehead.

Deron's eyes darted nervously around him. That couldn't have been it. There had to have been more than two soldiers. He was right, too right. A laser bolt impacted the tank to the right of where his head was. The sergeant recoiled and whipped around to face the new enemy, his sights set dead on him. His finger curled around the trigger and pressed down, only for a searing heat to burn his hands mildly.

"Kriff!" He dropped his weapon, smoke rising from the tube of the rifle. Just to solidify the damaged state of the rifle, a set of sparks shot from the rifle. He looked up to see an amused separatist, chuckling at Deron's bad luck. The soldier wordlessly aimed his own rifle, failing to notice Deron's hand lowering to his waist. Then, almost like a ranger in a western film, Deron unholstered his sidearm and fired, hitting the soldier dead in the chest. The soldier fell backwards, rolling down the hill he'd just climbed up.

Deron looked down at the now on-fire rifle and shook his head.

"It's gonna take months just to get a new one," he muttered sorely. Despite his loss of a primary weapon, Deron still had a job to do, and so, he pushed on down the path toward the village.

* * *

Deron slowed from a fast jog to a slow crawl as he heard the sounds of combat coming from up ahead.

_I hope my side's winning, _he thought frankly, edging closer to the firefight nearby. From what he could tell, separatists had set up in front of a massive hole in the wall of the village, taking shots from cover against the Republic forces, who sat in their own cover a ways away from the wall. Deron lowered his body to his knees and slinked his way over to his side of the battle, not wanting to get hit by any stray bolts. As he got closer, he overheard one of the soldiers speaking into his radio.

"HQ! This is forward recon, do you copy? HQ? Blast! I thought I had'em." It seemed the mustached soldier's day was not going great so far, judging by the frustrated look on his face. Deron slipped into cover next to the man, startling the man if Deron was to go by the surprised expression that replaced the frustrations of a man done with everything. "Sorry, soldier. Having a little trouble here. Actually, we could use that big–er–sorry, tiny gun of yours right now, if you'd help us out. A crack separatist militia has taken over this village, so we're not talking dumb grunts and farmers." He pointed his thumb over the cover to the giant hole in the wall and added, "They've got experts in there with serious jamming equipment." A sudden realization hit Deron like a podracer.

_Jammers? Ah kriff. I won't be able to contact Gearbox until those are out, then. _And Deron wasn't going to wait until someone else got rid of those jammers. "Any ideas how to solve that problem?

"I figure I got one option left." Deron arched an eyebrow. "Ask you for help." Then, he facepalmed.

_Of course._

"My mission is to deliver recon on this village, but I can't report anything through this interference!" the soldier replied angrily, though if it was because of the separatists or Deron's blatant disrespect, he couldn't tell. "I need those separatist jammers neutralized–so if you're headed into the village anyway, maybe you can handle it for us."

_Why am I suddenly everyone's errand boy? _Deron thought irately.

"If you waste those separatist jammers, report back here. I'll see if I can't requisition some equipment you could use." Deron's eyes lit up at the prospect of new equipment. Especially after the loss of his rifle, he could go for some new gear.

"You're on it, sir!" he replied a little too eagerly, before rising above cover and instantly acing one of the separatists in the head. "Get out of my way! Daddy needs a new rifle!" The young sergeant leapt over cover, charging head-first into the heat of battle, much to the shock of literally everyone present. He discharged his pistol into the face of another separatist before people remembered they were in the middle of a civil war and opened fire again. Deron leapt out of the way of one man's barrage and returned fire, hitting him multiple times all across his body, including his rifle.

"Damn it! I wanted to use that!" Deron slid behind cover, waiting for one soldier to poke his head out before grabbing him by the neck and slamming it against the edge, killing him with a sickening crunch. He then leapt over said cover, looking to loot the man's rifle before discovering that it'd shattered when the dead man dropped it. "Oh come on! What kind of weapons are you dumbasses buying?!" Still angry, he aimed his pistol blindly and sank another shot into the skull of an unsuspecting soldier before moving into the village, grumbling to himself about the quality of these weapons.

Surprisingly, he found no resistance past the guards covering the hole in the wall. He could, however, see small squads of separatists dotting the village. Some were patrolling, others were playing sabacc, and some seemed to be doing nothing. It confused Deron why no one came to investigate the sound of gunfire and people dying, but it was no skin off his back. Where he was currently crouching, the Havoc Squad recruit could also spot two of the three jammers being used to block communications. One was two his immediate left, being guarded by three separatists, unfortunately. The other was across a wide, open area of the village, with no cover whatsoever.

_No sign of the cache or the third jammer, _he thought sourly, his face curling into an annoyed sneer. _If I wanted to cross that gap, I'd need bigger firepower. _That was a problem for future Deron. Present Deron would focus on getting that first jammer.

Deron kept along the far side of the village wall, creeping up to the squad of soldiers guarding the jammer. Two of them were facing away from Deron, while the third stared in his direction, somehow missing the Havoc soldier. He shook his head, embarrassed for the separatist forces. He paled when he noticed one of the soldiers holding an assault cannon. Now he had a dilemma. His pistol shifted between the blind man and the man with the minigun, the gears turning in Deron's head.

_If I kill the guy with the cannon, then I'll be spotted immediately. If I kill the guy that's facing me, then I might give the cannon guy enough time to make me into cheese… _

He aimed his pistol and fired off a bolt, hitting the soldier facing him in the shoulder, but not killing him. He swore as he fired a second time, this time hitting the soldier in the chest, finishing him off. That second shot would cost him, however, as it gave the other soldiers more time to realize what was going on and respond accordingly. He had to kill the soldier with the assault cannon. The soldier swiveled in Deron's direction, the barrel of his cannon spinning rapidly, only to be put down with a blast to the head.

"Fuck yeah!" The third soldier pulled something from his belt and lobbed it at Deron. As it rolled to his feet, a red light accompanied by a loud beeping sounded from the device, causing his eyes to widen. "Fuck!" The grenade exploded, sending Deron flying backward. He rolled on the ground into a pole, the back of his head creating a loud ding as it ricocheted off the metal. His vision turned fuzzy, unable to see anything beyond a few feet in front of him. He instinctively rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a barrage of plasma from the third and final soldier. He continued scrambling away, hearing the sound of lasers hitting the metal floor behind him. Even if he wanted to fire back, he dropped his pistol when he was sent flying by the grenade, and by now he was nowhere close to where it had landed. Finally, Deron's vision cleared enough to where he could a blurry outline of the man firing on him. It was all he needed. He scrambled to his feet and dashed in an arc rather than straight at the soldier, preventing him from getting a clear shot. As soon as he was close enough, he charged the man, grabbing him by the face and slamming him into the metallic wall behind them. The man fell to the ground limply, while Sergeant Deron Bolwill stood tall, victorious.

Deron stood still for a moment, panting heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off. Suddenly, his nerves cried out all at once, as his whole body began to ache in pain. He looked himself over, realizing that the grenade had not done any serious damage to his body, unless you count some charred fatigues as "serious damage." He searched for his fallen pistol, discovering it right next to where he'd tumbled beforehand and walked over to the jamming device. While he could've sat there and figured out how to turn the device off manually, Deron was already done with this village. He could've cared less if the brass wanted him to salvage this tech. Instead, he unloaded his pistol into the machine, sending sparks flying as the machine exploded. At first, Deron felt proud of himself for having taken down a jammer. But then, the slow realization dawned on him that he still had two more jammers, as well as a cache of rocket launchers, to destroy. He groaned sorely, wondering how he was going to pull this off. As he ran his fingers through his short, black hair, his eyes fell upon the assault cannon, which, unlike seemingly every other weapon the separatists owned, had not a scratch on it. Deron's eyes turned wild as an excited grin plastered itself onto his face.

"Kriff yeah."

* * *

Three guards sat around a table, each hiding a stack of cards from the other. The match of sabacc had just begun, yet it was already heating up. The three men nervously glanced at each other, trying to gain an insight into their schemes.

"So, did you hear that the Republic's considering our demands?" one of the soldiers, a blue-skinned Twi'lek, asked.

"What? No way," another soldier responded. "The Republic's too far up their own asses to ever agree to our demands."

"I don't know. We've been hitting them hard, recently," the Twi'lek countered, turning and pointing a finger at a cache of rocket launchers. "Those babies did some great work today. We took out three tanks alone with those things." He turned back to see one of his friends leaning over to see his deck. "Hey!" The guard pulled his deck away and pointed at his friend. "No! Bad!" The cheater shrugged and went back to staring at his cards.

All of a sudden, a torrent of laser fire ripped through the soldier, causing the other two to leap out of their seats in shock.

"What the–" The Twi'lek couldn't even finish a sentence before his body was blended into fondue. The remaining soldier had the presence of mind to twist in his seat to at least get a look at their assailant. His eyes widened in fear as Deron heaved the assault cannon in his direction, whirring it up for another go.

"N–No! Please! I'm a week from retirement!" The pleads for mercy fell on deaf ears as lasers shredded the man's torso to pieces.

"Now this is firepower!" Deron bellowed, a huge, stupid grin plastered on the soldier's face. He heard the sound of rushing footsteps and pivoted to his left, unleashing his new toy on the incoming squad. They didn't stand a chance, falling into a massive heap as they were mowed down like blades of grass. He laughed, relishing the power he now held in his hands. He was keeping this thing for sure. He'd encountered the second jammer on his way over here, hidden behind a building and, once again, guarded. You can guess how that went.

More footsteps alerted Deron to soldiers moving in behind. He didn't bother to stop firing, the cannon burning hot as he pivoted around to butcher the new threat. As he turned, he managed to take out the third, and final, jammer. Just like before, the guards had no idea what hit them. It was almost sad, really.

Deron glanced around, almost daring another soldier to try and take him out now that he held such immense power in his hands. However, it seemed the Havoc sergeant had taken everyone out. Still, he should move quickly. He didn't know how long before reinforcements arrived. He quickly found the cache of rocket launchers, which were irresponsibly left out by the late separatists. He briefly thought about 'repossessing' these for Republic use, but realized that the separatists probably didn't have armored vehicles.

_It's better this way. _He took a few steps back before revving his assault cannon and opening fire. Despite this, he was still nearly knocked off his feet by the massive explosion. "Well, that certainly did the trick. I should inform Gearbox." He heaved the assault cannon over his shoulder, letting the harness on his back take the bulk of the weight from his grasp, and called his superior on his communicator. As Gearbox popped up on his holoprojector, Deron gave him a wide grin.

"Sir, it's done," he informed. Gearbox let out a small chuckle, amused by the look on Deron's face.

"_Nice work, kid!_" he congratulated. "_You've got a talent–there's no denying that!_" Gearbox's cheerful demeanor then deteriorated, turning into one of defeat. "_I, however, didn't have much success. This walker isn't gonna be moving anytime soon._"

"Don't beat yourself up," Deron offered, trying to lighten Gearbox's spirits. "If it was possible, you'd have fixed it." It seemed to work, as some of that spirit returned to Gearbox.

"_Thanks, kid. Shame about the driver, though. Poor guy never had a chance._" Deron lowered his head, having not thought about the driver of their tank at all.

_Those damn seppies, _the Havoc recruit cursed.

"_I'm gonna stay here and salvage all the goodies off this wreck before someone else does. You better head for Fort Garnik._" Deron thought back to the map of Ord Mantell he looked up in preparation for his arrival.

_If I'm in Drelliad Village, Fort Garnik should still be a ways south from here._

"_Be sure to keep a lookout for seps on your way to the fort–they can come at you out of nowhere._" Deron nearly burst out laughing at that one. He did just experience that, after all.

"I'll keep my eyes open," he replied.

"_Stay sharp out there. I'll see you later._" Gearbox ended the call, leaving Deron in the village, alone.

"I should get my reward before I leave for Fort Garnik," Deron muttered, heading back the way he came. As he approached the hole in the wall, he was met with a showing of blaster rifles. "Whoa! Whoa! Friendly here! Hold your fire!" A few of the soldiers offered their apologies as Deron stepped over to the sergeant he spoke to before, who greeted him with a big smile.

"Glad to see you made it back in one piece! Me and my squad owe you one. Thanks to you we're cutting through the separatist interference. Be reporting back to base in no time." The sergeant turned around and grabbed something, placing it in Deron's hands. A brand spanking new hunting rifle! Deron's eyes lit up in awe. "Here–a little something from our private stock. Watch your hide out there, hero." Normally, Deron would've taken the rifle without question. But then he remembered the assault cannon strapped to his back. Would he ever use this thing?

_Eh, it's a free weapon. _Deron graciously took the hunting rifle from the sergeant and said his goodbyes before carrying on his merry way.

* * *

The walk to Fort Garnik was uneventful, to say the least, save for the occasional separatist that would get instantly mowed down by Deron's minigun. As soon as he arrived at Fort Garnik, he was greeted by a man in standard Republic armor. He informed Deron of a "Lieutenant Forris" that would "show him how to survive in this craziness." He didn't know how this man could help, considering Deron thought he was faring well, but a little extra training never hurt anybody. Not right now, however. His first order of business was reporting to HQ. As he walked deeper into the camp, Deron spotted a refugee camp. His mood dampened, realizing that these people were probably forced from their homes because of this war. Their livelihoods, destroyed. He clenched his fist, his gaze growing stern. He would send these separatists back to the shitholes they came from. Havoc Squad would send these separatists packing.

Deron soon found himself at HQ, only a short walk away from the entrance. He immediately noticed the light was much dimmer in here than outside, making the whole setup seem secretive. He was definitely in the big leagues now.

"Excuse me, Sergeant Bolwill?" Deron's attention was seized when a young man came up to him. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, but you're the new member of Havoc Squad, aren't you? I'm Farn, sir, Private Farn. It's a real honor to meet you!" Deron smirked, entertained by the young lad.

_I haven't even done anything and I already have a fanboy._

"Ord Mantell is my first post–I can't believe I'm here at the same time as Havoc Squad!" The boy continued gushing about Havoc Squad to Deron, who began to tune him out. Deron looked around, trying to determine which room he was supposed to go in when Farn got his attention once more. "If, uh, if you don't mind me asking, sir, what's your mission here? Why would Havoc Squad be sent to Ord Mantell?" Deron internally sighed. It seemed his day was destined to repeat itself at least twice. First he was thrown in vehicles, and now he had people asking questions about classified intel. Still, he met Farn's question with a warm smile. He was just a private after all, he didn't know how things worked quite yet.

"We're Special Forces, Private," Deron explained, "I can't really discuss our missions." This seemed to fluster the young man.

"Of–of course, sir," Farn stuttered. "Right. I understand. Top secret stuff." The two stood in the hallway in awkward silence. "I, uh, I won't take up any more of your time, Sergeant. I'm sure you have lots of really important things to do."

"Maybe we'll run into each other again, Private," Deron offered, trying to make the private feel at ease. This worked, as it caused a huge smile to form on Farn's face.

"I hope so, sir! Goodbye!" Farn saluted Deron, something the sergeant wasn't used too, and hurriedly walked away. Well, now that that was out of the way, time to find his team. As he turned the corner, he spotted a room containing a huge computer, not to mention a group of soldiers wearing the exact armor Gearbox had on. Bingo. It seemed they were in the middle of a strategy meeting. Hopefully he wasn't interrupting anything too major.

"Yes, so if we focus our efforts on M-sector, I'm certain that–" Deron's presence most certainly did not go unnoticed, as the entire group turned to witness the sergeant's arrival. A soldier with a black handle-bar mustache, the one that had just been speaking, was the first to greet Deron. "Sergeant Bolwill! Welcome, welcome!" He reached out and placed a hand on the young sergeant's shoulder. "Good to have you here. I'm Commander Harron Tavus, Havoc Squad's commanding officer. We're all excited to have some new blood in the unit." He looked back to the other members, motioning them to come forward and introduce themselves. "Let me introduce you to the other members of Havoc Squad. My second-in-command, Captain Zora, is the squad's infiltration and assassnation specialists. We call her Wraith."

"Sergeant." Deron nearly shit himself as a Mirialan soldier popped up out of nowhere behind him. She remained stone-cold as she rejoined her comrades, although Deron could tell there was a hint of amusement behind those bright blue eyes.

_She's kind of hot, _the soldier admitted to himself, although he doubted his chances of ever coming close to being on this woman's radar. Tavus cleared his throat, drawing Deron's attention once more as he motioned to the Zabrak behind him.

"This is Fuse–Lieutenant Vanto Bazren. He's an expert with every type of explosive in the known galaxy." Fuse didn't respond, at least, not right away. When he finally noticed that everyone was awkwardly staring at him, a tinge of red popped up on the man's face.

"Oh, uh, yes, hello, Sergeant, hello. Good to meet you." He rubbed his horns sheepishly, having been caught in his own explosive world. Tavus moved on from the awkward introduction, pointing to the cyborg on his other side.

"And this is Needles, Lieutenant Ryler Dorant. Needles is a medical genius–he's particularly adept at synthesizing powerful new combat stimulants and adrenals." That's when it dawned on Deron.

_Gearbox really is on steroids! _He almost chuckled to himself.

"Perfection is my art, Sergeant," Needles informed, bowing. "It will be my honor to help you perform at your very best."

"And of course, you met Gearbox on your way here, so that's everyone." With the introductions of Havoc Squad out of the way, it was time to introduce the newbie to the veterans. "People, this is Sergeant Deron Bolwill–ranked first in the Academy in Forward Assault, Search and Destroy, and Advance Recon." Man, what was with everyone praising him today? It was actually getting unnerving. "It's good to have you, Sergeant." Still, this was his crew, and it was already beginning to feel like home.

"It's a real pleasure to meet all of you," Deron responded. This elicited an outburst of smiles from most of the group, even Wraith carried a small smirk on her face. Tavus nodded in appreciation before adopting the same look Gearbox had when talking about the bomb.

"Now, the reason we're all here: a Republic transport, carrying among its cargo a ZR-57 orbital strike comb, crashed in northern Avilatan six days ago." Tavus walked over to the wall-spanning computer as a map of Ord Mantell was brought into view. "Recovery unit sent a team, but they were too late. Separatist forces had already stolen the transport's cargo, including the ZR-57, and fled." That seemed a little too strange for Deron's liking. It's almost as if…

"Some on our side must have tipped the seppies off," the Sergeant suggested, resting his chin on his fist.

Tavus nodded and responded, "Yes, we've considered that possibility–but we don't have time for a mole hunt. Recovering that bomb is priority one."

"The ZR-57 is–well, it's serious hardware, you know?" Fuse asked rhetorically. "I mean, it can pretty much vaporize this whole island. So we'd better get it back or, well, boom."

"We're investigating several leads to the bomb's location, but the one I'd like you to look into, Sergeant, comes from a Republic spy named Bellis. Bellis reported making an important discovery, but he's in too deep to exfiltrate for a full report. Instead, you'll rendezvous with Bellis in a nearby village called Talloran." The map zoomed in on the small, separatist-controlled village. "Bellis will meet you in a small alley in Talloran. Find out what he's discovered, then return to the base immediately. Understood?"

"I'll talk to the guy," Deron replied simply. Tavus nodded and turned to leave, until his eyes passed over something, or someone.

"I have one last introduction to make," he responded, waving his hand to someone. Deron turned and locked eyes with a fierce-looking Cathar wearing fatigues similar to Deron's, only orange and not burnt. "This is Lieutenant Aric Jorgan, an operations officer from the Republic's Ord Mantell Infantry Command. Since we're on individual missions to search for this bomb, Lieutenant Jorgan is coordinating our efforts from here within the mission room."

"All right, Sergeant Bolwill, I'll be overseeing your op through the camera mounted on your armor, so I see what you see. It's activated when you leave the fort."

_Armor? I'm not wearing armor, though, _Deron realized. As he went to point this out, Jorgan stopped him.

"You'll be given your armor, don't worry. Report to our supply officer after this." The sergeant nodded, a little freaked out that Jorgan seemed to know what he was thinking. "I'll make this completely clear, rookie–when you're in the field, what I say goes. Period."

_What the hell? Who the kriff does this guy think I am? _It honestly pissed Deron off to be told how to follow orders. He'd been a soldier for eight damn years, he knew how to follow orders. And he knew which ones not to. "I can handle myself, sir," he replied, adding a hint of bite to the end of his sentence.

"Other members of Havoc have proven themselves on dozens of ops, Sergeant Bolwill. You haven't." Deron opened his mouth to retort, but eventually conceded in that regard. The Cathar did have a point. "Just make your way to Talloran, meet with Bellis, and find out what he knows without screwing anything up." The nerve on this guy was really starting to rile Deron up.

"If I may say something, sir," Wraith offered, stepping into the conversation. "He did take out an entire village of separatists by himself. He also managed to take a grenade to the face and leave without a scratch." Fuse looked at Deron in shock and awe, while the sergeant-in-question looked at Wraith sorely.

"Wait. You were there the entire time?! Why didn't you help me?!" Wraith shrugged.

"I wanted to see if you were really what your CO's said you were." The entire group waited for a follow-up to Wraith's inquiry. "… And he didn't disappoint." Deron felt the tension in his chest release, something he didn't know he even had. Fuse's eyes lit up as the gears turned in his head.

"Hey, uh, Sergeant Bolwill! I just came up with your codename!" Deron gazed at the Zabrak in confusion. "Well, we can't just say your name all willy-nilly, right? So you need a codename." Deron nodded, but failed to see where this was going. "So, how about we call you… 'Tungsten?'"

"'Tungsten?'" Deron blankly repeated.

"Yeah! It's one of the strongest, most durable metals out there! It fits you!"

"Sergeant Bolwill, you don't need a nickname," Tavus interrupted, feeling embarrassed on behalf of both parties. "It's not required." Deron considered the idea for a moment as a small grin formed.

"Actually, yeah, that's not bad. Tungsten. It fits." Fuse looked simply elated that Deron accepted his nickname, while Tavus shook his head.

"Suit yourself," the older commander responded. "Welcome to Havoc Squad, Tungsten."

* * *

**YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I'm back, with another chapter, and so soon! I bet you weren't expecting that! Lately, I've been having a phase that makes me really, really, REALLY, want to write fanfiction. That's why all of my stories were updated within a week of each other. However, I'm not done. To make up for lost time, I double-timed it when it came to this chapter, and I'm excited to introduce you all to Deron "Tungsten" Bolwill. As you can see, I decided to go with the idea of one longer chapter as opposed to two smaller chapters. The longer chapter flows better, in my opinion. And guess what? My story's been validated! I won't name the person who did it, because I don't want to put them in the spotlight like that, but this person will know who they are because they're the most recent person to follow my story, as of July 18, 2020. Before I ramble too much, let me just give them a message.**

**Thank you for following my story. You were a huge inspiration when it came to taking the leap into SWTOR fanfic writing. Actually, you were the reason I started this story. For that, I humbly thank you for giving my story a shot. I hope I don't disappoint!**

**So yeah, with that out of the way, let's go over the cast now! Yay!**

**Deron "Tungsten" Bolwill - Brian Bloom**

**Gearbox - Norm Woodell**

**Sergeant Blyes - Nolan North**

**Private Farn - Eric Nelsen**

**Harron Tavus - Michael Gregory**

**Wraith - Vyvan Pham**

**Fuse - Matthew Labyorteaux**

**Needles - James Urbaniak**

**Aric Jorgan - Timothy Omundson**

**And we're good. Now, as soon as I posted the last chapter, I realized I forgot to respond to reviews. So I'm just going to do that right now.**

**Guest 1: It's an interesting pairing for sure.**

**Guest 2: I will be doing a Sith Warrior, if you've taken a gander at my profile. As for who he'd be with… I guess you'll have to wait and find out. :)**

**Guest 3: Dang, that's two people that stan JK x Lana Beniko.**

**altajir95: Thanks! I'm looking forward to hearing more from you!**

**Guest 4: That could be interesting, especially with the rumors going around of a Star Wars multiverse called "Veil of the Force." It makes my job easier. And I'm sure you're not giving yourself enough credit when it comes to writing. I was an ass writer when I started, but I can easily look back and say I've improved massively with this chapter alone. Just keep at it and you'll be fine.**

**Alright, that seems to be all of it. Leave me any suggestions as to what I should do, any criticisms you have, and what you look forward to in the reviews. I love reading them, so keep'em coming! I'll see you guys in the next chapter of… **_**Heroes of the Republic! **_**Sneak peek, we'll be doing Smuggler, so that's going to be very fun to write.**

**Deron "Tungsten" Bolwill, Male Cyborg, Commando, Body Type: 2, Head: 3, Scars: 1, Complexion: 18, Eye Color: 4, Cybernetics: 3, Hair: 20, Hair Color: 10, Skin Color: 20**


End file.
